LT bus 7 from Our Lady of the Snows?

Here I am, still following Robert Louis Stevenson (in my rediscovered Collins Classics 1956 edition) as he plods across the Cevennes.

He has reached:

my strange destination, the Trappist monastery of Our Lady of the Snows.

There — vows of silence seeming somewhat elastic — he is not short of conversation. He has too much of it, of a propagandist nature. But I have my revelation.

Just as Richard Holmes tracing the steps of RLS, I find I am merely a follower.

I turn a page, and onto my recumbent body falls a flimsy scrap. It is one of those London Transport bus tickets, in the days when there were real conductors taking fares, when the tickets were issued from a kind of metal coffee grinder strapped to the conductor’s chest.

So: the problem.

If it were I who received this token from a distant past, what was I doing at stage 8 of route 7? No date to help. The number 7 still trundles down Oxford Street. It shuttles to and from Acton and the British Museum.

I cannot ever recall using a number 7.

A mystery? A forgotten event? Or — most likely — a previous reader of this book?

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Filed under London, reading, Religious division, Robert Louis Stevenson

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